Taking It
by brookeisabaddie
Summary: Clarke/Bellamy Review! Clarke achieved peace with the grounders, darn it! Why couldn't she be confident in everything else she wanted to do?
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1:

A swift kick to her stomach caused her to let out a painful gasp, "I can take it." She nearly cried as she looked at Octavia. "I can take it." She repeated with wide eyes as the grounder pulled back his leg and kicked her again. This time, she screamed as one of her ribs cracked—still, she looked at Octavia and repeated her previous statement. She felt the need to repeat herself with every hard blow because Octavia was packing heat underneath her jacket and if she dared to kill one of Clarke's assaulters—they would all die. _All_ was a reference to the people under her watchful eye. When the grounder went to kick her again, she saw Octavia move forward. "_Octavia_, I can take it." She claimed as she attempted to stand up—a hard heave escaping her lips as she stood before the three grounders that'd kidnaped them from the outskirts of camp (a place they shouldn't have been in the first place). She nodded to the grounder as a sign that she was ready for more—that she could really take _it. _Whatever the hell _it _was…

His dirty fist connected with her face for the second and then the third time that night. She stumbled back, but this time she did not fall despite the excoriating pain circulating throughout her bones. She could not _fall. _Mentally, she made a catalog of each of the injuries she could feel as the grounded stood straight before her.

She could not tell if it was over or not but there was a break from the pain and it made her uncomfortable. "Clarke…" Octavia cried, "It's over…it's over." She repeated the words over and over again until she touched Clarke. Clarke flinched away from her and Octavia's face crumbled. "You should have let me do it." The grounders were standing near her but they were no longer trying to hurt her. Clarke took this as a sign that they were at peace—the pact was one of blood, wasn't it? Under normal circumstances, Clarke would find Octavia extremely sweet but she couldn't be emotional—she couldn't hug her because it'd hurt too damn bad.

Lexa stood away from her men but she looked pleased with the outcome—it was, in fact, a grounder tradition. It was Lexa that ordered her kidnaping…Lexa that demanded the truce. Clarke complied immediately without consulting with her co-leader. At this point, there was nothing that Bellamy could do to her that the grounders hadn't (except kill her.) "Can…we leave?" It hurt to speak—it hurt to breathe but she knew she would have to walk away like a _strong _leader.

"Yes. We will come to you with negotiations concerning our peace." Lexa nodded before Octavia tried to help Clarke walk.

"I'm fine." Clarke nearly groaned as she took a few steps without Octavia. She refused to let Octavia touch her as they made their way towards the camp. They were a .2 miles away from camp by the looks of the scenery and Clarke had all intentions of keeping it together until then. Octavia had other ideas but Clarke continued to push her away repeatedly. Her pain was consistent…she told herself that she would take it easy for the next few days. She wasn't going to push it. She couldn't afford to push it.

They'd been missing for hours and the camp was bound to be in a panic. Octavia pulled out her gun—or Bellamy's gun that she stole because she wanted to learn how to shoot. She had all intentions of returning it but then they got kidnaped. "I'm sorry I made you go after me."

"They would have done it eventually." Clarke's words were not smooth—they were cut off by her irregular breathing but Octavia received the message. "You think I can hide this from Bellamy?" Octavia looked over her swollen and bruised features, her limp and her bloody lip.

"Oh definitely." Octavia said with a sarcastic nod. "He'll never even know."

Even if they were joking, Clarke wished Bellamy wouldn't see her this way… but she had so many things to tell him—so many things to say that affected each and every person in their camp.

It was Miller who greeted them at the gate, "What happened to you?" Octavia shot him a look that all but told him to drop dead. Clarke rolled her eyes as he sauntered off to retrieve Bellamy. His face was everything she expected it to be. He was angry, concerned, scared…it was everything she thought it would be and it still hurt to see her co-leader in such a mood. Clarke's heartbeat started pumping at the speed of light as he walked quickly over to them.

Octavia didn't have a scratch on her, just an expression that said she'd gone through hell and back. Bellamy seemed to throw off some of the weight that rested on his shoulders. He pulled Octavia into a tight hug before turning his attention to Clarke. "What do you need me to do?" These weren't the first words Clarke expected to hear out of his mouth.

"Nothing." Clarke said, "Absolutely nothing…um…" She let out a hard groan when Bellamy reached his hand out and brushed her side.

"Broken?" Bellamy asked, his eyes meeting hers with an uneasy look. "Come on…let me help you."

She nodded, releasing another groan when he wrapped his arm around her and led her to the drop ship. They're friendship was stronger than ever—their partnership was better. Once in the drop ship, she put her hands against the cold metal slab and let out a loud cry. "Dammit!" She screamed when she removed her shirt from her body. "It's already bruising…" She concluded after dragging a hand down her own skin. She sucked in another breath when Bellamy's hand connected with her hot, swelling skin. "Careful."

"I'm trying." He said, "Hold still…damn." The torn cloth she kept in the corner of her room was now in Bellamy's hand. "This will probably hurt."

"Most definitely." Clarke said.


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2:

Monty and Jasper looked at Clarke as she held her hands in front of her face. "I don't feel anything." She said in an extremely sedated voice. "Is that weird?" Her hair was tied back into a high bun and her skin was recently cleaned but covered in bruises of all shapes and sizes. It was Monty's idea to give her the "pain-reliever" unaware that it would have such a strong effect on her. At the time, she'd looked so miserable and he couldn't let his friend lay on the metal slab, constantly in pain when he had something to stop it.

"She is so baked." Jasper said with a small chuckle, "Clarke…tell me, is the pain gone?"

"Where's Bellamy?" Clarke asked, "That's a funny name—do you think Bellamy is a funny name? Well, I guess Clarke is a funny name too…and Monty…and Octavia…and Monroe…and…wow, just wow."

"Wow." Jasper mocked. He was amused by everything she said in her small, innocent voice. It was a voice they didn't hear too often. Of course, once the drugs wore off she'd be back to her usual self and fun would be over. He decided to make it last. "Clarke—you want to go outside? You haven't been outside since you got back to camp."

"Outside is a beautiful place." Clarke said, "Did you know that _outside_ is a preposition? How well did you pay attention in school? I bet you were a smart kid, right?"

Jasper nodded, "I guess you could say that."

Clarke slipped off the table and laughed once her feet were against the ground. They walked out of the drop ship, Monty sending Jasper a warning look. "If Bellamy catches you messing around with Clarke's mind—he'll kill you."

"I'm not messing around with her mind. I'm letting her explore the world through different eyes." Jasper said, "Its fun." She stayed close to Jasper, her head tilted towards the sky as she walked. Jasper and Monty looked up to see what she was staring at until they came to an abrupt stop in their path. Clarke had stopped which caused Jasper to run straight into her. "Sorry." He said before looking at the person in front of him.

"Speak of the devil." Jasper joked, "We were just making sure Clarke didn't hurt herself out here. We'll go back inside now." Clarke opened her mouth to speak but Jasper stopped her, "Oh no need. I know you're in a lot of pain right now. Stubborn! Stubborn! I told you that you needed to stay in the drop ship and recover."

Monty looked at his rambling friend with furrowed eyebrows, "Dude…just stop. You aren't a good liar."

Clarke backed away from Jasper into Bellamy, "You said you wanted to go outside. I just followed." Her words were slurring now. Monty realized that Clarke might be getting extremely tired because of the herb. Honestly, she sounded like a really intoxicated person. "Just wow…"

Jasper groaned, "Stop talking…please."

"Wow." Clarke repeated.

"Wow." Jasper mocked her again in his best impression of Clarke. She blinked and yawned before moving back farther into the silent Bellamy.

Bellamy didn't stop her. "So, let me get this straight. Looney right here is what—high? You give her something that makes her walk around in a haze?"

Monty swallowed, "Just a little bit of something."

"And then you let her out of the drop ship on a little bit of something because…?"

Jasper swallowed this time. Clarke yawned again, "I'm so sleepy now." She proclaimed, her eyes half-way shutting as she looked at Monty. "Remember when you said Bellamy had a funny name?"

Monty looked at her, "I didn't say that, Clarke. You did."

She shook her head, her eyes fully closing now. "No…you did."

It was weird to see her falling asleep against Bellamy like a child. In fact, everything about her behavior was childlike. But the way she looked—god, she looked like a warrior. She looked horrible but completely riveting as well. She could handle herself and Bellamy admired her strength…but he also admired the way she screamed when she was away from their people because of the pain—how she had that much self-control in her to do so.

He admired this Clarke, too. Her innocence swept over him like a thick fog—reminding him of Octavia as a child. He picked her up like a princess, making sure he didn't hurt her or hit any of the heavily sensitive black and blue areas on her skin and carried her to his tent. He couldn't trust Monty or Jasper to keep her in the drop ship anymore so he was going to watch her himself (under his own terms).

She crawled into his bed as if it were her own and covered himself with his blanket. He cocked his head at her, amused by her actions. "Go on…make yourself comfortable, princess." He smirked as he sat in the chair she usually inhabited when she forced him to have meetings in the middle of the night. He crossed his arms.

"You're being a creep." She mumbled, her eyes closed while she drifted in and out.

"How so?"

"Watching me sleep." She smiled, "It's creepy."

"It's necessary."

She sighed and said something he couldn't translate into English and fell asleep. He tried not to look at her, a faint redness touching his cheeks when he found himself eyeballing her. Seriously, he was going to have to air out his tent to get the smell of her skin off of his bed and away from his dreams. He could burn some type of herb.

Herb.

He started thinking about the herb Monty had given her. That little bastard was holding out on them…He probably knew an ass load of things that they leaders didn't and he just kept it to himself. He wondered when Monty found the herb…did he have it when Octavia broke her wrist last month? Or when Monroe got her leg caught in the fence and cut it up?

But he looked at Clarke and he remembered how serious her injuries were compared to the others. She'd taken a beating from the grounders and just walked away. She'd been through her own miniature war and won.

She'd returned with a promise of peace like a true leader.

And what did he do in return? Stare at her while she recovered from battle as if he were the medic and she was the one supposed to be protecting everyone.


	3. Chapter 3

Chapter 3:

Clarke woke up in the late evening, looking over at her "protector" with a soft smile. "Still a creep." She mumbled as she attempted to push herself out of his bed. He was asleep, snoring slightly while leaning back in his chair. She hissed at the sharp pain on her sides and the raging ache that pulsed through the rest of her body. The drugs had definitely worn off and she was a victim to her own stubbornness.

His eyes shot open at the sound of her previous hiss, "Hey—stop, lay down Clarke. Don't be stupid." She met his eyes, easing back down. "You don't have to prove anything but running out there like an idiot. Just take your time."

"You need your bed. No one likes you when you're tired." She said, "Not even me and I've seemed to have built up a tolerance against hating you." She tried to laugh but instead she seemed to cry.

"Take it easy, princess." He said, standing up to move towards his bed. "Do you mind?"

"No." Clarke said, "As long as you keep your hands to yourself and don't punch me in my sleep." With that, he found himself falling into his mattress beside her as if it were habit to make room for _her _body in his bed. In all actuality, Bellamy wasn't the type to share his bed with another person. He believed in boundaries and essential privacy. On the other hand, he couldn't let Clarke walk out of his tent and stumble towards the drop ship because he wanted the bed to himself.

"You're a lot a fun when you're high." Bellamy mumbled into his pillow while her uneven breaths vibrated the bed. They called it a bed but it wasn't close to any type of bed they had on the Ark. If anything, he missed the comfort of a good mattress. Still, he couldn't lie and say that he wasn't used to its occasional lumps and soft spots.

"Was I?" Clarke said, wincing with each word. "I think I was embarrassing myself…honestly."

"Just wow." Bellamy said with a smile on his face. Clarke looked at him—really looked at him. The way his eyes were lightly shut because he was somewhere between staying awake, talking to her and falling into a comatose state…and how his tan skin reminded her of the sweetest, softest caramel (a real delicacy on the Ark) or how his lips fell into that perfect little grin that could not only send a shiver up her back but also make her fear for her life. "I'm the creep, right?"

It was weird how accustomed they were to _knowing _things like that. When did they start being able to _feel _eyes on them? When did they become warriors? She imagined Bellamy had always been a warrior—well, if not a warrior he'd always been a rebel with the prospects of becoming a warrior. He had a knack for leading because he was born with it. She had a knack for leading because she was raised with it. But it wasn't her leadership qualities that made her the co-leader—sure, she had some grand ideas every now and again but she could never enforce them by herself (especially in the beginning)—no, she needed Bellamy for that. It was her compassion towards the people she lived with that made her the optimum co-leader. Bellamy was the strict, discipline, no-questions-asked ruler. She was the compassionate, concerned, witty ruler.

And together they made a great team. Apart, they were the fundamentals of something truly amazing. Together, they were truly amazing.

Sometimes she thought about fate and how odd it was that she met him. She thought about how everything from the time they were born led them up to this point. Although, she should probably start at the time Octavia was born when it came to fate. For years—_years_—they'd lived this separate life. If Octavia had never been born, Bellamy would most likely be dead.

She says this because he's the type to sacrifice everything for the people he cares about. He proved that when he shot the Chancellor. When Clarke's mother announced that the oxygen was running out, she could see Bellamy volunteering with the rest of the lost souls to give more time for his mother. For everyone.

And if Octavia had never been born—he wouldn't have felt compelled to come down to Earth. If Bellamy hadn't been on Earth, Clarke was most likely be dead. She was the princess, wasn't she? They would have killed her like they killed Wells to get her out of the way.

But if Bellamy and Clarke were both dead—the 100 would be dead, too, because no one could lead the delinquents like them. Who would step up? Murphy? And rule under a careless dictatorship… or Finn? Finn who would _"fight" _for peace without proving that they could handle themselves would have killed the entire flock of kids. What about Jasper or Monty? They would be trampled…

So, it was chalked up to fate because there was only one word to describe the string of events that led them to this very moment: Luck. Right now, she didn't feel lucky—not in the slightest. Yet, everything pointed to the fact that she was lucky. She had to be lucky because if she weren't lucky—she'd be dead by now.

She would have died in open space almost instantly because treason is a major crime. Instead, she was on Earth. If she weren't lucky, Bellamy would have let her fall into the grounder trap—but he didn't. Maybe Bellamy was a little lucky for having some self-control… and if she weren't lucky, the life that they were building wouldn't be going the way it was. There would be a lot more deaths. There wouldn't be peace with the grounders.

There wouldn't be _this… _

She didn't even know what _this _was.

All she knew was Bellamy and her were sharing a bed and it wasn't about sex. It was about mutual respect. "At least I'm not sitting in a chair watching you sleep." Clarke rolled her eyes, pulling the blanket from him. "You're a blanket hog."

"Says the one with the blanket." Bellamy countered, "It's not exactly warm outside right now."

"Fine." Clarke said, hurting herself while she inched closer to him—tossing the blanket over his shoulders. "Better?"

He opened his eyes to find that his nose was almost touching hers. The blue eyes that met his were earth-shatteringly beautiful. The second his heart skipped a beat or two he felt it—the world was ending around him and there was nothing he could do. Walls were falling, speeches were being made—bombs were exploding all around him and there was nothing he could do—nothing he wanted to do. He let the war play on in his head while he looked at her. Finally, he mustered up enough fight in him to say, "Yeah…"

Clarke was a complicated woman—not a girl. No one that can take the constant attack of a grounder could be classified as a girl. Not that she was classified as a girl before…she'd never been a girl in his mind except maybe the first time he met her. Even then, he couldn't be sure. The second they met, it was a fight and she'd seemed like a pretty good opponent to go up against—he barely even noticed how close Clarke and Octavia were in age.

It was hard to notice anyone's a_ctual _age when they were holding a rifle. "Be careful…" Clarke said when he fidgeted.

"Always."


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4:

Clarke started taking off her clothes as she shivered, "I just got tossed into a fucking…ugh!" She yelled as she looked at Bellamy. His eyes were wide as she tossed off her jacket onto her tent floor and started taking off her shirt. Long since had the bruises on her sides healed and her relationship with Bellamy was a longer stronger than it used to be. He was her _best _friend unless she was talking to Octavia—in that case, Octavia was her _best _friend. He tilted his head as he watched her strip down to her underwear. "Enjoy the show?" She snorted as she handed him her clothes, "Can you put these up?"

He nodded, walking outside so he wouldn't have to stare at her a_mazing _cleavage. He did have to return, though…because he hadn't sept without Clarke since her freak drug experience. He _couldn't _sleep without her—he tried once, it didn't work. "So, what happened?"

"Jasper thought it would be funny to push me into the fucking river." She said with a frown, "Can you hold me?"

_Okay—_maybe they weren't best friends. They were something else...but not that special type of something that had a title. They didn't have sex. "You and Jasper have really been going to the extremes with the pranks ever since the medicine debacle…I want to be mad but you two are really boosting morale."

Clarke shrugged, "Next time I'm going to break his finger or something."

"A little sadistic…" Bellamy said, "You're shivering, come on."

There she was though—and it's not like _fucking _her hadn't crossed his mind a thousand times a day because he always thought about it. He thought about how he could make her say his name and how she would like having sex with him.

God, he was her boyfriend without any rewards.

He got to deal with her emotional irrationalities but didn't get the slow touches he desperately craved. She climbed into her bed, pulling him with her. She tossed the thin blanket over their bodies. He asked himself once—_why do I do this?_

It felt good to lay next to the only person that could understand the pressure. Human contact when one didn't feel _human _was important. She was important to him. Her skin was remotely wet against his and he smiled. "Jasper got you good."

"Okay…I was off guard." She said annoyed, "He did not get me good…and even if he did, I'm going to get him better. Fucking goggles."

"Princess…" Bellamy complained, "This is not comfortable at all. Your bed hurts. You're cold. This is like asking for back problems."

"I'm sorry I can't make it comfortable for you."

"You know—"

"Don't say anything." She closed her eyes at his implication. "I think I'm going to find a root or leaf that turns into a dye and color his hair while he's asleep."

"They have something like that?"

Clarke shrugged, "I don't know. I hope so." She shifted to get comfortable, moving her knee across his pants.

"Princess..." He said her nickname differently this time—more like a warning. Her blue eyes met his innocently. Did she seriously not understand the affect she could have on someone? Her body was perfect to him. He spent a lot of time staying away from females that resembled her. Her soft stomach and curvy features sent him into different emotions.

Sexual frustration was his top emotion, though. Symptoms? Snapping when he didn't mean to…storming off. All hazards of being around someone he found himself extremely attracted to. "Yes?" She asked, "If you complain about how cold it is again I swear to god." He grabbed her hand on impulse and placed it on his erection. "OH…wow…um, sorry."

That little _wow _didn't go through one ear and out the other. "You can move your hand now, princess."

He watched as she blushed a deep red, removing her hand from him. "Well this isn't awkward or anything." She said, moving closer to him because she was cold and needed his warmth. "Um…"

"We can forget about it."

"How can I forget about _it?" _She countered, "I'm now aware that you are completely turned on by this. I turn you on…"

"It's been a while, okay? Not many girls want to climb into your bed when the scary leader is inhabiting it. The one's that do probably aren't the ones you want in your bed in the first place."

"Are you telling me you have standards?"

"That's not offensive." He said.

"So tell me, Bells, B-man, B. B.—"

"Enough with the nicknames, Clarke. Get to the point."

"Do you want to have sex?"

He looked down at her, questioning how serious she was being about her question. From the look in her eyes—very. "I don't know how much good that would do."

"Relieve tension. We share a bed together almost every night…it was bound to happen eventually especially if your claims of not being able to sleep without me are true. I'm not exactly sexually active. I don't have a sex life. Sex is healthy."

"Is that your medical opinion?"

"Just boosting morale as you said."

"You're boosting something, alright." He claimed, "Just…Clarke…fuck, man. I want you. I want to have sex with you it's just going to change things."

"Things have changed already. Why do I feel like we're on opposite sides of an argument?" Bellamy moved so he was above her after her question. She smiled, arching an eyebrow at me. "Looks like we've reached an agreement."

"Oh, trust me princess…" He said, "We've reached an agreement."


End file.
